One Hell Of A Woman
by ThatGirlYouThoughtWasQuiet
Summary: Demonstuck. 'You finally allow yourself to grin as you stare into the unseeing blue-green of her eyes, thinking back to the girl who disappointed you before. This hunter, right in front of you? Now she is one hell of a woman.' Or, Dave comes upon Terezi while she's working, and he's definitely not disappointed.


You hold your nose high up in the air, taking in a deep breath. Everything around you smells green and of the forest, the sky smells like midnight, the stars like glitter and fire even though you know that the stars that the lights you smell come from are long dead. Of course, there is the moon, smelling like a toenail tonight. Everything is how it should be, which is just so _wrong_, because you know that something should be wrong, and the fact that nothing is wrong is wrong. You sniff again, your senses piercing deeper, looking, smelling, searching...

_There._

A wide grin spreads out on your face just before you sprint in the direction of that scent. That scent that was like the forest, but off and tainted. A jadeblood, you conclude. The demon jolts when it realizes that you found it, turning to flee. You tighten your hand around the head of your cane, sliding the end off with your other. The scraping sound of metal against metal fills the air as the dual blades slide away from each other. There is a quick intake of breath as the demon realizes you have drawn your weapon. Being the sloppy newly-turned that it is, it stumbles over its own feet when it tries to pick up speed, letting you gain some distance.

Your nose is locked in on that one demon, only being vaguely aware of trees and the forest to avoid crashing into them. You follow it into a small clearing, and your nose is suddenly invaded by a plethora of tainted scents. The jadeblood leaps up onto a branch, and everything is suddenly still. None of the demons move, giving you time to figure out how many there are. You count a dozen or so, about 4 of them are behind the bushes on ground level while the rest take cover in the trees. Even though they don't give any external movement, you can smell their anxiety. All of them are newly-turned, probably only a few weeks old.

New demons, especially those who were forced to turn, are usually nervous and unstable wrecks. Those who actually wished to be monsters, who willingly drank a demon's poison and let their soul be taken from them, were usually on the opposite end of the spectrum, becoming too self-assured and overconfident in their newfound skills. Either way, new demons were always illogical. They left trails of their kills, making it all too easy for hunters like yourself to track them down. They didn't know how to control their abilities, or conceal their scent and presence like older demons knew to.

You hear a ruffle in the tree leaves when some of them shift at the sight of your grin. As fun as the challenge of experienced demons are, there is something amusing about the easy kill of anxious, sometimes arrogant, always clumsy, new demons. They're close to attacking you, you realize when one of them moves forward from behind its bush. To them, it would be easy to assume that victory is theirs. After all, they outnumber you greatly, they are strong and fast. A human couldn't be a match for all of them, right? Of course, they are very much wrong.

"Hello, monsters," you greet, unable to keep the grin from your face. Because it is only fair for them to know the name of the hunter who will sentence them, you tell them your name and title with malicious glee. "Now, any last wishes?"

As you predicted, they all lunge at you.

* * *

You really regret turning all those demons a few weeks back when their deaths interrupt a meal. You were a little pissed at Dirk at the time, and retaliated by going into the city and force feeding a group of humans you blood before taking their souls. You felt smug and good about it right until you got home. Naturally, your brother had already gotten wind of your little stunt, reprimanding you and taking away your turntables for a few days and forbidding you from feeding.

He'd finally let off on his anger today, so you went out to celebrate, luring a human or two to join you at the edge of the forest. The first one, a bartender you caught smoking while on his break, was slumped against the tree next to you, already dead and robbed of a soul. The second, a young girl that had the misfortune of bumping into you on her way home, was cowering on the ground in front of you, her body frozen and unmoving but her eyes screaming in terror as you advanced on her. That was when you felt it.

It was an itch at the back of your mind, almost like an annoying but harmless headache. It wasn't all that familiar to you, but instinctive. You imagine that it's what being a father feels like, although with none of the parental concern. Even so, you feel the sudden need to make your way to the dying demons.

Looking back to the girl in front of you, you shake your head in disappointment. You aren't disappointed that you won't be able to take her soul, but that she isn't as interesting as you initially thought. When you came upon her, you hoped that she would be more resistant, but instead she fell right into your control, her mind becoming blank all too easily. You had let her out from the mind compulsion, wishing that she would fight back against you. Instead, she froze up, scared like you expected but not strong like you hoped. She was just an ordinary girl.

Sighing, you squat down in front of her, making sure that her fearful eyes stared right into your piercing red gaze. You probed her mind until the terror subsided, leaving a blankness free to control.

"Go home. This never happened. You never saw me," you tell her. Looking to the bartender, you add, "You can't see the body." You'd usually give her a story to tell, so that if anyone asked any questions, there'd be minimal room for confusion on her part, but you're in too much of a rush to do so. She nods slowly and you quickly walk away from the disappointing girl.

* * *

You're only a little bit away from the clearing when you catch the scent of the demons. Or rather - their ashes. You squash down your scent and presence immediately, the fact that it's a hunter's doing is obvious enough. Quietly, you flash step onto a high tree branch, hiding yourself in the shadows before properly observing the slaughter below you.

There are still a handful of demons down there, all of them centered around the hunter. The woman is holding a thin blade in each hand, bringing one down into a demon's shoulder and dragging it all the way through, cutting the male demon's arm off, and stabbing the other into the chest of another demon. That demon explodes into green dust, leaving the olive-covered blade free to slice through the neck of the armless demon. Both the demon and his severed arm are only piles of gold by the time the hunter spins around to face the rest of her prey.

You find yourself smirking in cool delight when she cackles, high-pitched and with a quality that could be called downright insane. She moves quickly and sharply, the flourishes of her blades powerful and clean. The few demons left turn to dust one right after the other, and she finishes off the last one, a girl who cowered ever so slightly amongst the ashes of her comrades, with a precise arc of her blades, bringing them both down on the demon's shoulders. She goes with a shriek, her voice echoing in your ears as you and the hunter watch her body disintegrate into tangerine ash.

The hunter stands in silence for a moment, her breath and heartbeat slowing and her arms coming from their offensive stance to rest by her side. Oddly, she turns her head and sniffs the air before sighing dramatically, "How am I supposed to get these in a bottle?" she mumbles. She brings her blades together, sliding them until there is a click. The handles of her swords have formed a long stick, which she holds in her hands and pats around the grass with. You raise an eyebrow, your mind already made up. Sliding on your shades, you hop down from your hiding place.

She inhales quickly when your movement rustles the leaves in the trees, sniffing the air a few times again before spinning around to face you. As she does, she draws her swords again, the blood that had covered them before already turned to powder.

"Hey demon," she greets you almost cheerfully, but there is an edge to her voice, which is raspy and sharp.

"Hey hunter," you say back. She tenses ever so slightly, indicating that she knows you're dangerous. Still, she doesn't run, only holds her place and her swords more firmly. Her wide, toothy grin is present, and even though you can't see her eyes behind her pointed red glasses, you know that there is bound to be a gleam of excitement in them. "That," you begin, "was sick."

She laughs again. "Thank you!" Her grin is even wider now, if that is even possible.

"Name's Dave," you tell her, leaving out the rest purposely. It's not totally safe to use it around hunters. They either flee or kill you on the spot.

"Well then, _Dave_," she puts a teasing emphasis on your name, "My name is Terezi Pyrope, a hunter of Prospit." She pauses for a moment, tipping her head down, allowing you to see over the rim on her glasses. "It's only fair for you to know the name of the woman who will end your unnatural existence." You finally allow yourself to grin as you stare into the unseeing blue-green of her eyes, thinking back to the girl who disappointed you before. This hunter, right in front of you?

Now _she _is one hell of a woman.


End file.
